1Q84 (117 page)

Not much I can do about it
, she told herself.
I’m not even sure if this world with two moons in the sky is the
real
reality or not. So it shouldn’t be so strange, should it? That in a world like this, if I fall asleep and dream, I find it hard to distinguish dream from reality? And let’s not forget that I’ve killed a few men with my own hands. I’m being chased by fanatics who aren’t about to give up, and I’m hiding out. How could I
not
be tense, and afraid? I can still feel the sensation, in my hands, of having murdered somebody. Maybe I’ll never be able to sleep soundly the rest of my life. Maybe that’s the responsibility I have to bear, the price I have to pay
.

The dreams she had—at least the ones she could recall—fell into three set categories.

The first was a dream about thunder. She is in a dark room, with thunder roaring continuously. But there is no lightning, just like the night she murdered Leader. There is something in the room. Aomame is lying in bed, naked, and something is wandering about around her, slowly, deliberately. The carpet is thick, and the air lies heavy and still. The windowpane rattles slightly in the thunder. She is afraid. She doesn’t know what is there in the room. It might be a person. Maybe it’s an animal. Maybe it’s neither one. Finally, though, whatever it is leaves the room. Not through the door, nor by the window. But still its presence fades away until it has completely disappeared. She is alone now in the room.

She fumbles for the light near her bed. She gets out of bed, still naked, and looks around the room. There is a hole in the wall opposite her bed, a hole big enough for one person to barely make it through. The hole isn’t in a set spot. It changes shape and moves around. It shakes, it moves, it grows bigger, it shrinks—as if it’s alive.
Something
left through that hole. She stares into the hole. It seems to be connected to something else, but it’s too dark inside to see, a darkness so thick that it’s as if you could cut it out and hold it in your hand. She is curious, but at the same time afraid. Her heart pounds, a cold, distant beat. The dream ends there.

The second dream took place on the shoulder of the Metropolitan Expressway. And here, too, she is totally nude. Caught in the traffic jam, people leer at her from their cars, shamelessly ogling her naked body. Most are men, but there are a few women, too. The people are staring at her less-than-ample breasts and her pubic hair and the strange way it grows, all of them evaluating her body. Some are frowning, some smiling wryly, others yawning. Others are staring intently at her, their faces blank. She wants to cover herself up—at least her breasts and groin, if she can. A scrap of cloth would do the trick, or a sheet of newspaper. But there is nothing around her she can pick up. And for some reason (she has no idea why) she can’t move her arms. From time to time the wind blows, stimulating her nipples, rustling her pubic hair.

On top of this—as if things couldn’t get any worse—it feels like she is about to get her period. Her back feels dull and heavy, her abdomen hot. What should she do if, in front of all these people, she starts bleeding?

Just then the driver’s-side door of a silver Mercedes coupe opens and a very refined middle-aged woman steps out. She’s wearing bright-colored high heels, sunglasses, and silver earrings. She’s slim, about the same height as Aomame. She wends her way through the backed-up cars, and when she comes over she takes off her coat and puts it on Aomame. It’s an eggshell-colored spring coat that comes down to her knees. It’s light as a feather. It’s simple, but obviously expensive. The coat fits her perfectly, like it was made for her. The woman buttons it up for her, all the way to the top.

“I don’t know when I can return it to you. I’m afraid I might bleed on it,” Aomame says.

Without a word, the woman shakes her head, then weaves her way back through the cars to the Mercedes coupe. From the driver’s side it looks like she lifts her hand in a small wave to Aomame, but it may be an illusion. Wrapped in the light, soft spring coat, Aomame knows she is protected. Her body is no longer exposed to anyone’s view. And right then, as if it could barely wait, a line of blood drips down her thigh. Hot, thick, heavy blood. But as she looks at it she realizes it isn’t blood. It’s colorless.

The third dream was hard to put into words. It was a rambling, incoherent dream without any setting. All that was there was a feeling of being in motion. Aomame was ceaselessly moving through time and space. It didn’t matter when or where this was. All that mattered was this movement. Everything was fluid, and a specific meaning was born of that fluidity. But as she gave herself up to it, she found her body growing transparent. She could see through her hands to the other side. Her bones, organs, and womb became visible. At this rate she might very well no longer exist. After she could no longer see herself, Aomame wondered what could possibly come then. She had no answer.

At two p.m. the phone rang and Aomame, dozing on the sofa, leapt to her feet. “Is everything going okay?” Tamaru asked.

“Yes, fine,” Aomame replied.

“How about the
NHK
fee collector?”

“I haven’t seen him at all. Maybe he was just threatening me, saying he would be back.”

“Could be,” Tamaru said. “We set it up so the
NHK
subscription fee is automatically paid from a bank account, and an up-to-date sticker is on the door. Any fee collector would be bound to see it. We called
NHK
and they said the same thing. It must be some kind of clerical error.”

“I just hope I don’t have to deal with him.”

“Yes, we need to avoid any kind of attention. And I don’t like it when there are mistakes.”

“But the world is full of mistakes.”

“The world can be that way, but I have my own way of doing things,” Tamaru said. “If there is anything that bothers you—anything at all—make sure you get in touch.”

“Is there anything new with Sakigake?”

“Everything has been quiet. I imagine something is going on below the surface, but we can’t tell from the outside.”

“I heard you had an informant within the organization.”

“We’ve gotten some reports, but they’re focused on details, not the big picture. It does seem as if they are tightening up control of the faith. The faucet has been shut.”

“But they are definitely still after me.”

“Since Leader’s death, there has clearly been a large gap left in the organization. They haven’t decided yet who is going to succeed him, or what sort of policies Sakigake should take. But when it comes to pursuing you, opinion is unwavering and unanimous. Those are the facts we have been able to find out.”

“Not very heartwarming facts, are they.”

“Well, with facts what’s important is their weight and accuracy. Warmth is secondary.”

“Any way,” Aomame said, “if they capture me and the truth comes to light, that will be a problem for you as well.”

“That is why we want to get you to a place they can’t reach, as soon as we can.”

“I know. But I need you to wait a little longer.”

“
She
said that we would wait until the end of the year. So of course that’s what I’ll do.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

“Be that as it may,” Aomame said. “There is one item I’d like to add to the list the next time you bring over supplies. It’s hard to say this to a man, though.”

“I’m like a rock wall,” Tamaru said. “Plus, when it comes to being gay, I’m in the big leagues.”

“I would like a home pregnancy test.”

There was silence. Finally Tamaru spoke. “You believe there’s a need for that kind of test.”

It wasn’t a question, so Aomame didn’t reply.

“Do you think you might be pregnant?” Tamaru asked.

“No, that isn’t the reason.”

Tamaru quickly turned this over in his mind. If you were quiet, you could actually hear the wheels turning.

“You don’t think you’re pregnant. Yet you need a pregnancy test.”

“That’s right.”

“Sounds like a riddle to me.”

“All I can tell you is that I would like to have the test. The kind of simple home test you can pick up in a drugstore is fine. I’d also appreciate a handbook on the female body and menstruation.”

Tamaru was silent once more—a hard, concentrated silence.

“I think it would be better if I called you back,” he said. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

He made a small sound in the back of his throat, and hung up the phone.

The phone rang again fifteen minutes later. It had been a long while since Aomame had heard the dowager’s voice. She felt like she was back in the greenhouse. That humid, warm space where rare butterflies flutter about, and time passes slowly.

“Are you doing all right there?”

“I’m trying to keep to a daily routine,” Aomame replied. Since the dowager wanted to know, Aomame gave her a summary of her daily schedule, her exercising and meals.

“It must be hard for you,” the dowager said, “not being able to go outside. But you have a strong will, so I’m not worried about you. I know you will be able to get through it. I would like to have you leave there as soon as possible and get you to a safer place, but if you want to stay there longer, I will do what I can to honor your wishes.”

“I am grateful for that.”

“No, I’m the one who should be grateful to you. You have done a wonderful thing for us.” A short silence followed, and then the dowager continued. “Now, I understand you have requested a pregnancy test.”

“My period is nearly three weeks late.”

“Are your periods usually regular?”

“Since they began when I was ten, I have had a period every twenty-nine days, almost without fail. Like the waxing and waning of the moon. I’ve never skipped one.”

“You are in an unusual situation right now. Your emotional balance and physical rhythm will be thrown off. It’s possible your period might stop, or the timing may be off.”

“It has never happened before, but I understand how it could.”

“According to Tamaru you don’t see how you could be pregnant.”

“The last time I had sexual relations with a man was the middle of June. After that, nothing at all.”

“Still, you suspect you might be pregnant. Is there any evidence for that? Other than your period being late?”

“I just have a feeling about it.”

“A feeling?”

“A feeling inside me.”

“A feeling that you have conceived?”

“Once we talked about eggs, remember? The evening we went to see Tsubasa. About how women have a set number of them?”

“I remember. The average woman has about four hundred eggs. Each month, she releases one of them.”

“Well, I have the distinct sensation that one of those eggs has been fertilized. I don’t know if
sensation
is the right word, though.”

The dowager pondered this. “I have had two children, so I think I have a very good idea of what you mean by
sensation
. But you’re saying you’ve been impregnated without having had sex with a man. That is a little difficult to accept.”

“I know. I feel the same way.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask this, but is it possible you’ve had sexual relations with someone while you weren’t conscious?”

“That is not possible. My mind is always clear.”

The dowager chose her words carefully. “I have always thought of you as a very calm, logical person.”

“I’ve always tried to be,” Aomame said.

“In spite of that, you think you are pregnant without having had sex.”

“I think that
possibility exists
. To put it more accurately,” Aomame replied. “Of course, it might not make any sense even to consider it.”

“I understand,” the dowager said. “Let’s wait and see what happens. The pregnancy kit will be there tomorrow. It will come at the same time and in the same way as the rest of the supplies. We will include several types of tests, just to be sure.”

“I really appreciate it,” Aomame said.

“If it does turn out that you are pregnant, when do you think it happened?”

“I think it was that night when I went to the Hotel Okura. The night there was a storm.”

The dowager gave a short sigh. “You can pinpoint it that clearly?”

“I calculated it, and that night just happened to be the day when I was most fertile.”

“Which would mean that you are two months along.”

“That’s right,” Aomame said.

“Do you have any morning sickness? This would normally be when you would have the worst time of it.”

“No, I don’t feel nauseous at all. I don’t know why, though.”

The dowager took her time, and carefully chose her next words. “If you do the test and it does turn out you’re pregnant, how do you think you’ll react?”

“I suppose I’ll try to figure out who the child’s biological father could be. This would be very important to me.”

“But you have no idea.”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“I understand,” the dowager said, calmly. “At any rate, whatever does happen, I will always be with you. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you. I want you to remember that.”

“I’m sorry to cause so much trouble at a time like this,” Aomame said.

“It’s no trouble at all,” the dowager said. “This is the most important thing for a woman. Let’s wait for the test results, and then decide what we’ll do. Just relax.”

And she quietly hung up.

Someone knocked at the door. Aomame was in the bedroom doing yoga, and she stopped and listened carefully. The knock was hard and insistent. She remembered that sound.

She took the automatic pistol from the drawer and switched off the safety. She pulled back the slide to send a round into the chamber. She stuck the pistol in the back of her sweatpants and softly padded out to the dining room. She gripped the softball bat in both hands and stared at the door.

“Miss Takai,” a thick, hoarse voice called out. “Are you there, Miss Takai?
NHK
here, come to collect the subscription fee.”

Plastic tape was wrapped around the handle of the bat so it wouldn’t slip.